My lover is ill and lies far away from my touch.

I challenge you to write a sadder sentence.

My lover is ill and lies far away from my touch.

Give it your best shot.

~mce

we were all born from
challenged ancestral thought -
refracting in such a way against
our flimsy souls
that would
build us up gradually:
    (from the drowning
           beta-fish to the asphyxiated
                                              dove).

showing us how absolutely
okay it was
to recognize
a distant gaze belonging
to one on the brink of another
terribly lonely silence.

coupled with sighting
a trembling bone structure --
we could find yet another
sign of “Get Me Out Of Here” or
“Those Walls Better Keep Their Distance”
without one or ten stigmas attached to the core.

auto-pilot would really do us all a favor if
we could think objectively for more than
a few seconds: throw a side of coping mechanisms
into the mix while we’re off creating the perfect
human. but god, just save more than a handful
of our loves tonight.

if only we could learn to note
the difference between a
barely-there sigh that screams
“This Is Only A Yawn” vs.
“More Than A Coffee Crash”

perhaps we’d all find each other well-off
and striving for that sense of unimaginable
hope we can see every poet clawing for;
trapped in the depths of their
own abyss. they can’t find
the EXIT sign. can you even
salvage a reading light?

this world can only flourish
outwards from here on out:
I swear to you.
if only we can pry that mind
open and teach it to love
a little bit more than
the revolving planets
in their universes.

da

this boy
eyes like hollow darkness
yet so intense
it draws me close
I want to get to know him
the way his pillow knows the back of his head
as he stares at the ceiling
at 4 am
wondering curiously
about life and death
and which one he belongs to

this boy
I want to put the light
back in his eyes

The world would be a better place
If girls weren't told that what they wore
Was the reason they were called ******
That it was their fault for being *****
When no one ever asks for it

The world would be a better place
When boys are told that its okay
To play with dolls and they won't be called gay
When a child wants to dress like the opposite gender
And adults won't tell them it's wrong

The world would be a better place
If my age didn't mean I know nothing
Even though I know how it feels
To lose and be abandoned, to feel like I'm not wanted
To be alone and have no job

The world would be a better place
If it didn't matter if I liked girls or guys
If my little brother didn't feel the need to hide
His true self from the world
If my sister didn't hurt herself and actually got help

The world would be a better place
If every child knew the love of a parent
And had a home with food
And a family to call their own

The way the world is now means it won't change based on a poem, won't stop based on one death
And won't recognize that even in chaos there is hope

This life isn't a contest of who wore it best.

With a warm breath on my neck, she kisses my shoulder
I could feel my cold winter pass, as my dream comes true at last
generous is she, as she has revealed my open chest
as her face nuzzles and grins a little as her blue eyes
look into my piercing glaze,
with tenderness and care she gives herself ...

She poured herself as blood, to give my heart the desired love
her blood boiling in me, an unfamiliar feeling came over me
I could feel her course through my veins, pulsating my soul
our bodies shudder as we partake in our transfusion
the feeling was so overwhelming, I wouldn't dare stop it now ...

Sweat drops on my tongue, tasting the liquid of her passion
mouth to mouth we breathe into every swelling kiss
our palms meet and take hold, neither one not wanting to let go
with nothing but candles burning,
our naked shadows exposed on the wall
we shared every inch of each other,
with a serpent tongue I roamed
I knew her before the night was new ...

Enriched by her delicate beauty, the simpleness of her love
she rests upon me, her breath so long
her intense wetness, scorching my love as she moves
the grinding of pelvis to pelvis, so deep so new so raw
releasing with pleasure with a deluge of sweet nectar
in only in a dream, she healed my very soul ...

Debbie Brooks 2014